


Blink

by cuddliestcactus



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Time Travel, Friendship, Hurt/Comfort, Marauders, Romance, Time Travel, Young Sirius Black
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-10-09
Updated: 2016-10-29
Packaged: 2018-08-20 09:28:10
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 12,835
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8244358
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cuddliestcactus/pseuds/cuddliestcactus
Summary: Before the Potters were forced into hiding, Sirius Black went missing during a mission for the Order. 17 years later while in hiding at Grimmauld Place, Harry and company find a man long thought to be dead.A.K.A the time travel AU where a 20 year old Sirius Black gets in on the Horcrux hunt with the Golden Trio





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I fell down the rabbit hole of Sirius/Hermione time travel AUs, but I kept wanting a story of Sirius being the one to travel forward. I didn't find that, so here we are

The two men were still despite the chill of the stone prison. The younger of the two surprisingly looked the worse for wear, skin wan and knuckles bloodied. There was a strange, unnatural amber tint to his eyes, not to mention their eery focus on the small window into the next room.

The other man, every bit as old as his white beard would indicate, also did not waver. He took a deep breath before confessing, “I must admit to being surprised at you, Remus.”

Remus huffed a laugh that held no humor. Finally looking away from the window, he turned to his bruised hands, clenching them so hard that the crack of his bones broke the silence. “I admit to surprising myself, Dumbledore.”

A whimper from the next room stopped Albus from responding. Remus resumed his watch, his face betraying nothing as the weeping, portly man in the window wriggled uselessly against his bonds. 

“You could have killed him,” Dumbledore monotoned, wincing slightly at the man in the other room crying out as his left arm, broken and dangling, was forced into a shackle.

Remus breathed deep, his sensitive nose unable to ignore the smoke that lingered on his tattered cloak nor the salt of the dried tears on his face.

“I meant to.”

They both watched as Alastor Moody poured a clear liquid down Peter Pettigrew’s throat, neither moving from their posts as the sobbing truth poured from the rat’s mouth.

\-------------------------

_“Sirius! Don’t you dare!”_

_The man in question paused more in shock at the volume of Remus’ worried shout than in obedience. It took Sirius no time at all to get over being startled though, and he went on with his schemes. Unfortunately, this particular scheme was putting baby Harry, who had only just mastered crawling and was not even close to walking, on a hovering miniature broom._

_Remus had lived a mostly good life, obvious tragedies aside, so it wouldn’t be too tragic when Lily murdered him. In his defense, he and Sirius had watched Harry before, both independently and together, to great success and with no loss of life or limb. They both loved Harry and quite enjoyed spending time with him. Remus could even admit to being jealous at the tyke’s preference for Padfoot over most everyone except his own father. Sirius had the unfair advantage of being able to turn into a cuddly dog at will, a feat that easily won over babies as it turned out. However, the good times were clearly coming to an end since Sirius’ senses had left him, and he lowered his godson onto the broomstick with a wide grin._

_Remus lurched for Harry, ending up in an ungraceful sprawl, hands outstretched under where he had assumed the baby would fall._

_Instead, he was faced with Harry’s gurgling giggle, a bit of drool escaping from the corner of his mouth, and a smirking Sirius who, despite having placed Harry on the broom, had not taken his hands off the child._

_“Did you really think I would let my godson fly off first thing? He may be the most brilliant wizard to ever grace this earth and future champion quiditch player, but we can’t have him kill himself before he hits his first birthday,” Sirius tutted, guiding Harry’s movements with firm motions so that the broom flew over a prostrate Remus, bristles scratching his gaping mouth as they passed. “Honestly, you have so little faith in me.”_

_James came home first, Lily having been caught up at the market, to find Remus still laying on the floor as Sirius pushed a happily shrieking Harry around the living room in faster and faster circles. The speeding duo took one turn around the sofa too quickly and ended up tripping over Remus’ stomach, knocking the air out of the werewolf in the process._

_“You realize Lily won’t let him keep that thing, right, Padfoot?” James asked, chuckling at Remus’ moans of pain._

_Sirius whipped his head around, pulling Harry up with one hand and snatching broom up with the other._

_“I have a plan for that, dear Prongs,” Sirius said, passing off the squirming baby to his father so he could put the broom back in its box in the corner, “This is Harry’s birthday present!”_

_James, preoccupied with keeping his glasses on his face and not in his son’s searching fingers, “Harry’s birthday isn’t for months. You’re a terrible godfather if I have to tell you that.”_

_Shrinking the broom box with a tap of his wand, Sirius hid it in the armoire against the wall. “How dare you cast aspersions on my godfathering abilities. I am the best damn godfather in Britain, possibly the world.”_

_“Swearing in front of your godson seems like evidence to the contrary,” Remus groaned, finally heaving himself up._

_“Shut it,” Sirius tossed over his shoulder while making his way back to the godson in question. Taking the baby back and stealing James glasses right off his face, he plopped the frames on himself and leaned in so Harry could grasp at the glasses to his own content. James’ complaints were soundly ignored as Sirius blew a raspberry at Harry whenever he got close to grabbing the glasses. “I know when his birthday is, you prat, but what kind of godfather would I be if I didn’t let him practice a bit. Wouldn’t want him to embarrass himself, would I?”_

_James was busy feeling his way blindly along the back of the couch until Remus took pity on him, pulled him to an armchair and pushed him into it. Remus snatched the glasses off Sirius’ face before handing them back to a grateful James and settling next to Sirius on the couch._

_“Been a bit since we were all together,” James sighed, burrowing further into the cushions of his armchair. It had started to rain outside, fat drops tapping against the windows. Harry yawned, the excitement of the afternoon finally getting to him, and snuggled into his godfather’s chest. Sirius leaned back to allow a better angle for Harry to rest against him and turned to face the other men._

_“Not all together now, mate.”_

_Remus frowned but nodded in agreement. “Pete’s been gone more and more. Thought he was going to skiv off the last Order meeting before he slipped in the back a couple minutes late.”_

_“His mum’s been getting worse,” James offered without opening his eyes, “Pete’s been helping her around her house. I told him we’d come help him, but he said he didn’t want to upset her.”_

_Sirius rubbed Harry’s little back, feeling his snores against his collarbone. “Maybe we should just head over anyway?”_

_“Sick mothers aren’t the time for acting first and begging forgiveness later,” Remus reasoned, “But maybe we can drag him out tomorrow night. We shouldn’t only be together on the full moon.”_

_“Can’t tomorrow,” Sirius said without elaborating, and the other two perked up as it was unlike Sirius to be short. Noticing their curious looks, Sirius shrugged as best he could with a slumbering baby against his shoulder. “Mission for Dumbledore.”_

_Frowning, Remus looked over at James to see the same consternation he felt reflected in his friend. James and Sirius almost always took missions together. In fact, most of the Order took on missions in pairs with the exception of Remus himself since he was the only werewolf and his missions were always to spy on others of his kind. Not that anyone but Dumbledore knew of Remus’ work. In Dumbledore’s own words, the fewer who knew of a spy and his intentions, the safer a spy would be. It was hard, keeping secrets from his friends, but Remus wouldn’t do anything to jeopardize their safety. If Dumbledore said this was the best path, then Remus trusted his decision._

_His friends would understand._

_“We have a mission?” James asked, sitting up._

_Sirius shook his head. “Just me, Prongs. Something special, apparently. Dumblie went on and on about me being the best suited for it. Can’t say more than that, though,” he sighed, “Technically, I’m not supposed to tell you lot about it at all, but the old man can’t expect me to follow all his rules. We’re Marauders, after all.”_

_A small sliver of shame built in Remus’ gut at Sirius’ admission before he forced himself to bury it. Whatever this mission was, it seemed like only one night so it was different to his own work. Sirius telling them about one night was still safer than Remus divulging months of work._

_They would understand._

_Lily came through the front door then, drenched from the rain but bearing enough take away for everyone from the pub around the corner. James went to greet her, sending a drying spell over her and taking the food to the kitchen. Harry stirred at the his mother’s voice so Sirius and Remus moved to the kitchen as well._

_It was a usual night at the cottage in Godric’s Hollow, laughter ringing out over the sound of rain as James ended up wearing the mashed peas he had tried to feed Harry. Remus smiled into his butterbeer, trying to memorize the warmth of this normalcy for the next time he was sent out into the cold to risk his life._

_Unbeknownst to him, it would be the last time they were all together._

 

\-------------------------

“You did what?!” Remus exclaimed, aghast. Dumbledore did not flinch, seemingly expecting the reaction.

Steepling his fingers under his chin, Dumbledore cut an imposing figure behind his ornate desk, surrounded by the portraits of all the headmasters who had come before him. Remus, in his anger, was not intimidated.

Seeing that the werewolf’s ire was not likely to abate, Dumbledore repeated himself. “I have placed young Harry with the last of his living relatives, Lily’s sister and her family.”

Dumbledore did not anticipate Remus banging on the headmaster’s desk with both fists and so did flinch this time.

“Lily’s sister hates witches and wizards! You knew that!” Remus shouted, “Lily confided in you about just that very problem! How could you give her son to them?”

“Calm down, Remus. I did what was necessary and in the child’s best interest,” Dumbledore reasoned, but Remus would not hear it.

“Best interest! That is rich,” Remus scoffed, “He should be with people who love him!”

“Is that not what family is? People who love him?”

Remus began pacing the circular office, too full of emotion and needing an outlet. After the events of the past night, Remus felt almost as close to the wolf inside him as he did under the full moon. He wanted to scream and hurt and tear and cry…

“I love Harry!” Remus roared, “I’m family, and I’ll take him!”

\-------------------------

_For a newly turned one year old, Harry was doing quite well on the broom. This mostly meant that he hadn’t broken his neck yet, but he was slowly understanding that leaning forward increased his speed, a feat he greatly enjoyed if his cackling was anything to go by. Lily had one eye on her son as she put away the half-destroyed birthday cake, a sad smile gracing her face despite the occasion. Peter had left earlier, a not unusual occurrence as he had to take care of his worsening mother. His commitment to his mother, and the fact that caring for her kept him from the forefront of the war, had been one of the reasons he’d been elected Secret Keeper for James and Lily. Remus had been uncomfortable with taking on that mantle when he spent so much of his time undercover with potential enemies, leaving Peter as the obvious choice._

_“Sirius would be proud of him riding on his own,” Remus murmured, unsure if he should be bringing up the specter of their friend. It had been months since Sirius had gone missing on a mission that was still shrouded in secrecy, much to the upset of the remaining Marauders. James in particular had spiralled, not that Remus was unaffected. But Remus had an outlet to funnel his anger and frustration with his work undercover, his helpless rage giving him a feral edge that ingratiated him to the other wild wolves. James, however, had soon after received news that Voldemort himself was targeting his infant son, for reasons not told to Remus, and so the homey cottage became something of a prison._

_Cut off from the war effort, cut off from investigating what had happened to his best friend, and cut off from society at large for fear that his family would be killed, James was clearly feeling helpless, and a helpless James was unpredictable in his moods. To his credit, the father had done his best to be happy and loving and smiling for his son’s birthday, but Remus could see the struggle under the surface._

_The first few weeks after Sirius’ disappearance, after Dumbledore’s repeated refusals to give them any details on the ill-fated mission, James had been ready to fight, any and every one except Lily. Remus suspected that Lily, and by extension Harry, were the only reasons James had not done something terribly stupid. James couldn’t be faulted for his reaction, though, because Remus knew that had it been James who had gone missing, Sirius likely would have burned the world in an effort to get Prongs back._

_Bringing up Sirius was painful, but Remus felt that not talking about him was more so._

_“Sirius would already have him terrorizing the cat, more like,” James countered, the corner of his mouth twitching upwards before he took a large gulp of butterbeer._

_“I miss him,” Remus sighed, deciding that Harry was the safest place for his gaze. Because of that, he heard rather than saw James use the sleeve of his shirt to wipe under his eyes._

_“Yeah, Moony, I miss him, too.”_

\-------------------------

At Remus’ outburst, Dumbledore stood from his chair and stepped around his desk, interrupting Remus’ pacing by placing a gentle yet firm hand on the werewolf’s arm.

“I have championed you for years, believed in your abilities and remained firm in my belief that you were a good man before anything else,” Dumbledore began earnestly, “However, after the events of the last twenty four hours, do you truly believe that you are what’s best for the boy?”

Dread was forming in the corner of Remus’ mind, but everything in him, wolf and man alike, would not allow weakness in front of the old man. Remus had lost damn near everything, and the thought of losing the one thing that remained his, of losing Harry, was too much to bear.

“James and Lily would want Harry with me, not with those muggles.” He tore his arm from Dumbledore and put a healthy distance between them, facing the wizard squarely. 

“James and Lily would want what was best for Harry. Is a man who had to be stopped from murdering a person with his own two hands, a man who attempted to harm those who stood in the way of his revenge, the best choice for an innocent child?”

The dread overtook Remus.

\-------------------------

_Crunch._

_James’ eyes had been open and cold._

_Crunch._

_Lily’s hands had been outstretched and still._

_Crunch._

_Harry had been crying, his little face covered in blood._

_Crunch._

_Peter hadn’t been hard to find. Remus caught him as he was fleeing his home, his scent ripe with fear._

_Crunch._

_Peter had begged for mercy, pleaded that Voldemort threatened him. Remus hadn’t heard him._

_Crunch._

_The Dark Mark in Peter’s forearm was long healed. Remus’ last thought before he felt Peter’s flesh crunch under his fist for the first time was that the mark had to have been there for months._

_Crunch._

\-------------------------

Remus was furious with Dumbledore. He was more furious with himself, though.

After finding the Cottage half-destroyed and the bodies of his two friends, he’d left Harry. Not alone, of course, as Hagrid had shown up while Remus wept over Harry’s crib, but he’d still left him. Hagrid had taken Harry, soothing him with his rumbling voice, and Remus had left with no real plan, just an intention of finding Peter. 

James and Lily hadn’t been gone for more than a few hours, and he’d already failed them.

It was this failure that allowed Dumbledore to sow doubts in Remus. Perhaps with time, he could have learned to forgive himself. Maybe with that forgiveness, he could have been the family that Harry deserved.

The years, however, were not kind to Remus.

More often than not, he had not a knut to his name for lack of work. The Ministry passed more and more restrictive laws, and Remus’ isolation increased exponentially.

He had no family, his friends were dead or good as, and the world around him constantly rejected him for who he was.

Despite all of this, Remus retained his compassion. It was that compassion that carried him through meeting the scared young man with his best friend’s face and a haunting scar.

That compassion gave him back Harry.

\-------------------------

_He was going to kill Peter. It was a fact._

_Remus continued to rain hits on the man who had been his friend and brother. His last friend. Peter had stopped moving minutes before, but Remus did not care. He was going to kill him._

_Until he wasn’t._

_It was not for lack of trying. The arms that pulled him off Peter were strong but no true match for a werewolf. Remus pried them off, turning on whoever had dared interrupt him, not seeing anything but an obstacle._

_It never registered that he was attacking an auror. He didn’t even realize that he’d tackled Moody until Dumbledore’s immobulus hit him._

_He was too far gone._

\-------------------------

Harry was the best of Lily, and, in a bittersweet twist, the best and worst of James. Like Lily, he was kind, gave every person he met respect unless they proved themselves undeserving, and wickedly funny. Like James, his loyalty and emotions could get the best of him, he could be blindingly obtuse when it came to others’ emotions, and he was so brave that it kept Remus up at night. At times, Remus would even swear he saw Sirius’ mischief twinkle in Harry’s eye.

All in all and despite only being seventeen, Harry had become the best man that Remus had ever met, and Remus could barely stomach the idea that he was the only one of their mismatched family left to see it.

Tonks helped. Merlin, did she help. She was warm and funny and brilliant, of course, but she also gave him support and love and a home. The last time he’d had any of those had been almost twenty years before. Remus loved her in a way he didn’t know he still could, with his whole being.

It was because he loved her so much that he had to leave her. Leave her and the baby.

He’d help Harry.

Be far, far away from Tonks and the shame he brought her.

\-------------------------

_There was blood on his hands, thickly caked layer upon layer. It was funny, how the blood stayed on him through the rain that had started after he’d been immobilized, through being disenchanted and then apparating to Azkaban, through the checkpoints as he trailed behind Moody, Dumbledore, and an unconscious Peter._

_Peter had been covered in blood, too._

_Moody had healed what he could after they got Peter situated in a holding cell. Said it was protocol to start interrogations with a coherent subject. Peter would not have been coherent in his damaged state._

_Dumbledore had led Remus to a little room off to the side, complete with a viewing window. Remus stood frozen, numb to his surrounding._

_The two men had begun their vigil._

\-------------------------

Remus did not like number 12 Grimmauld Place. 

He had never been there when Sirius was alive, obviously, but the one summer here with the Order would have been enough to cement his dislike. However, he had a more powerful justification for his feelings. It had been a surprise to him when Dumbledore had announced the Black family house as the new headquarters for the Order after Voldemort rose again. This was because, with no living Black heirs, Remus had assumed the house, along with the extensive Black fortune, had been lost. Come to find out, Sirius had put in place a will leaving everything to Harry. Hearing that his friend had planned for his own death at the ripe age of twenty had been a fresh pain to an old wound, and Remus struggled with his memories while in Grimmauld Place.

He was grateful for Sirius’ uncharacteristic foresight, though, because it provided Harry with a safe place to hide as the war escalated. Getting into the house was no small feat, even for Order members, and so Remus was understandable focused on getting through the wards and the front door, all while not alerting the lingering Death Eaters on the street. It was an irritating dance that prevented most from risking a visit to the trio housed inside, so coming face to face with the business end of three wands was not half as surprising as it was alarming to Remus. Hermione and Ron lowered their wands almost immediately upon seeing Remus’ face.

Harry did not.

“What did you first say to Peter Pettigrew in the Shrieking Shack?”

Remus smiled though he felt no joy. “I politely said hello and followed that with ‘Long time no see.’”

Harry lowered his wand and moved to greet him, but a thunderous crack from above interrupted him.

“What the bloody hell was that?!” exclaimed Ron, leaping away from the stairs like they were liable to bite him. Hermione had pivoted so her back no longer faced the upstairs and held her wand aloft again. Harry stepped between his friends, rushing up the stairs two at a time. Hermione was right behind him, apparently not keen to let him rush off alone.

Ron and Remus followed at a more cautious pace. Walburga Black’s screeching was drowning out any noise from upstairs, but they still cleared the second and third floors quickly.

“Perhaps it was another boggart…” Hermione quietly suggested as the group ascended to the top floor, “Or another pixie infestation?”

A distinctly human moan emitted from behind the closed bedroom door to their right almost in answer to her suggestions. 

“Perhaps not then,” Remus heard her mutter under her breath while they stared at the door. It was the door to Sirius’ old bedroom, Remus realized abruptly. Molly had left the room undisturbed, out of respect for Sirius or maybe Remus, but Remus had never been up to this floor. Being in the house was difficult enough.

Another noise came from the bedroom, this time a dramatic groan.

Remus stepped forward before Harry could lead the charge, carefully opening the door and slipping inside wand first. He silently lit the lamps in the room with a wave of his hand, keeping his wand trained on the man shaped lump in the bed. He heard the others join him but moved quickly to the other side of the bed so that he could get a good look at the intruder’s face. The lamplight finally filled the room, and the man groaned again at the change in light but did not wake. His long black hair covered his face, though Remus thought he did look familiar. Finding Hermione next to him, he gestured for her to shift the man so they could identify him, keeping himself on guard as she did so.

Hermione pushed a shoulder to roll him onto his back, missing the furrow that developed in the man’s brow for all the hair still in his face. Remus, however, missed nothing and a curious buzzing noise was building in his head. Hermione combed the hair out the man’s face, and the bottom dropped out of Remus’ world.

Grey eyes opened to meet Hermione’s curious ones, a lazy grin blooming on the man’s handsome face. 

“Hello, gorgeous,” purred one Sirius Orion Black, much to the astonishment of Remus Lupin. There was only so much one werewolf could take, you see, and the sudden reappearance of a brother long thought dead, looking exactly as Remus remembered from sixteen years ago, was apparently one thing too many.

Remus fainted dead away.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Turns out, I love writing Sirius Black. It's so, so much fun.  
> As a side note, the flashbacks will eventually start tapering off and become less common, but for now, I really like them as an exposition device. They'll be frequent in these first few chapters.

Sirius had never been one to wake up gracefully, as evidenced by years of Remus dousing him with cold water or James dive bombing his bed, but even he could tell something was off as he drifted into consciousness in a soft if musty smelling bed. Finding himself in an unfamiliar bed was not unusual, though he’d had less occasion for it since the war began in earnest, but this was different. The last thing he remembered was duelling his dearly deranged cousin Bella while the world exploded around him.

He found it hard to believe that Bellatrix would have put him into a bed had she gotten her hands on him. The idea that he was with friends rather than enemies was reinforced by the gentle fingers brushing back his hair. Opening his eyes, Sirius fully expected to see Lily or maybe James, though James was more likely to punch him for getting caught off guard than to caress him.

To his delighted surprise, Sirius was instead greeted by a truly impressive halo of wild curls surrounding a beautiful face. He wouldn’t fault James for not being the first to welcome him when it was her doing the welcoming. Sirius took very little notice of where he was, a novice mistake he’d admit later, but with the memories of Bella’s cackles and a torrent of violent light fresh in his mind, he could be forgiven for being swept up by the beauty in front of him.

Smiling widely, Sirius couldn’t help his contented tone.

“Hello, gorgeous.”

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

_A hard poke to the center of his forehead startled Sirius into consciousness. Lily looked smug as she pulled back her finger, smoothing her nightgown over her barely showing stomach. The slight rounding made Sirius grin. James and Lily had informed him last night that they were expecting and then asked him to be the godfather of the little sprog, warming the cockles of his little black heart._

_Of course, this had immediately devolved into celebratory firewhiskey for Padfoot and Prongs, who had nobly attempted to drink what Lily could not in order to celebrate ‘properly’. Lily was unimpressed with their attempts, especially because it was well known that she could drink every Marauder but Moony under the table. She sent them out of the cottage with orders to be back in time for breakfast so that Remus and Peter could be told the good news. Drunk Sirius had almost seemed more excited about being told before the other two than he was about being godfather, a fact for which Lily swatted him as he ducked out the front door._

_Presently, Sirius could say with full sincerity that it was the feat of winning out on being godfather that gave him the most joy. Coming in at a close second in terms of making him happy was the heavenly scent of sausage wafting into the living room from the kitchen. Sirius attempted to get up from the couch to follow the smell but was halted by a dead weight around his legs. Peering down his torso, he saw James wrapped around his thighs like a limpet._

_“I tried to get him to come to bed last night, but he claimed you’d be lonely,” Lily deadpanned, her tone betrayed by the mirth in her eye._

_“He wasn’t worried about his wife being lonely without him?” Sirius shot back, trying and failing at prying James off of him._

_“Funny, I made that exact argument. According to him, I’m fine on my own because I have a built in companion, and I should take pity on those of you who are not lucky enough to carry around another human inside of them.”_

_Sirius' barking laugh finally roused James, who only cuddled further into Sirius’ belly and sleepily murmured, “Lily…”_

_“Should I be offended that you confused my middle with your pregnant wife's, Prongsie?” Sirius harrumphed._

_James opened his eyes in confusion and promptly rolled off of the couch in surprise, landing hard on his back. Lily giggled at her husband from where she leaned against the arm of the couch. Sirius peeked over the edge of the couch, not bothering to sit up, and sniffed, “Now you’re just hurting my feelings. I’ll have you know that I am quite the catch!”_

_Lily collapsed on top of Sirius in laughter, knocking the wind out him but not stopping him from courageously catching the pregnant lady before she joined her husband on the floor and possibly squished his godchild._

_Baby Potter was only the size of a bludger, and Sirius thought he was already making quite the godfather._

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

A heavy thump distracted the pretty bird leaning over him, and she quickly moved out of his field of vision. It was only with his unobscured view of the room that Sirius realized two things. One, he was for some cursed reason in his childhood bedroom. Two, in a surreal twist, James had his wand drawn and centered on him from a shadowed corner of the room along with some ginger bloke.

“Remus!” the girl with the hair cried. Sirius tore his blinking eyes from the sight of his best friend in the whole world looking like he was ready to blow him to bits and pivoted to glance to where the witch was crouching. He expected to see another of his best friends, the brainy Moony who would hopefully shed some light on this situation, but instead saw a man with greying hair laying unconscious at the girl’s feet. 

Sirius moved to sit up, but the unknown redhead took a threatening step forward to stop him. Frustrated and bewildered, Sirius snapped, “James, could you please explain what the bloody hell is going on here?!”

James cocked his head and moved out from the shadows. The girl muttered from the floor that Remus was waking up. Sirius payed her no mind because, in the light, James was not James at all.

James did not have green eyes.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

_“You do realize I have a newborn son, right? I could be at home with him getting some wicked nap time, but here I am, being dragged to a mysterious location by you,” James complained while simultaneously eying the new display at Quality Quidditch Supplies as they strolled by its windows._

_“Sirius of Old would have mocked you mercilessly for using the term ‘wicked naps’, you know’” Sirius of New pointed out, pulling James down the street by his sleeve to get him to move faster._

_“You spent all of yesterday afternoon asleep with Harry on your chest,” James countered. He yanked his arm back and continued strolling at his desired pace while Sirius rolled his eyes. “Out of curiosity, when was the splitting point between Old Sirius and New Sirius? We’re fairly young to have had two lives.”_

_Spinning around to walk backwards and faces James, Sirius laughed, “Speak for yourself, you old codger. I’m not the one with a wife and a kid.” James took his turn rolling his eyes but was interrupted by Sirius latching onto him again and shoving him into Gringotts._

_“You kidnapped me to go on errands with you?” James hissed, incredulous, “I know Lily jokes that we can’t find our own arses without the other’s help, but this seems a bit extreme.”_

_“Don’t be daft,” Sirius chided, spotting a goblin making it’s way towards them. Sirius might have been disowned by his mother, but he was still one of only two Black heirs. Goblins loved nothing like they loved gold, and the Blacks had more gold than damn near anyone. Even if all of that fortune Sirius ever saw was what his Uncle Alphard had left him, he had more than enough to garner the admiration of the Gringotts’ horde. “I hardly need you to do my banking. Brought you because I need your magical signature.”_

_James was left even more puzzled. “My signature? Are you borrowing money? You know you’re rich, right?”_

_Sirius had to chuckle at that. “Are you saying that you wouldn’t spot me a few galleons, Mr. Prongs?”_

_“It depends, Mr. Padfoot, on what you’re offering in return,” James stroked his chin thoughtfully, “I’d look brilliant on that motorbike of yours…”_

_Ignoring that completely, Sirius turned to goblin who had finally reached them, listening as the goblin asked after their business. “I’m here to establish my heir,” Sirius said in response to the goblin’s inquiry._

_“Of course, Mr. Black, right this way,” the goblin gestured for them to follow him into a side office off of the lobby._

_As they passed into the office, James took a huge gulp of air and gasped, “Please tell me you aren’t making me your heir!”_

_“I’m not making you my heir,” Sirius said, calmly seating himself in one of the rich armchairs while the goblin retrieved the appropriate documents. James sighed in relief and sat in the chair next to him before he had finished, “I’m making Harry my heir.”_

_James shot back to his feet and squeaked, “You’re making my son your heir?!”_

_“He’s my godson. It’s perfectly acceptable,” Sirius shrugged._

_“Merlin, Sirius, you might have actual sons or, help us all, daughters one day,” James tried to reason, pacing the office, “Your future children will probably not take kindly to being cut out of their inheritance!”_

_Sirius looked at James like he was a particular stupid troll._

_“We’re at war, James. I know serious conversations are not where we excel, but our reality is life or death. When we aren’t at war, wills can be changed, but we need to prepare for our reality.”_

_James frowned at his friend’s words. Sirius knew that James had been in somewhat of a rosy bubble, and that was understandable. He’d married the love of his life, built a home with her, and had what was possibly the most adorable baby to have ever existed with her. The war was real to James, Sirius knew that for certain, but it was not taking up as much of James’ life like it was Sirius’._

_Sirius was alone in the world save for the Marauders. The people who should have been his family were his enemies, ready to kill him if given the slightest chance. He’d forever be grateful to James for giving him a home when he’d never known one, but the fact remained that James had a family of his own. Sirius was a part of that family, but it was not the same: Sirius had never had a family, a true family, of his own. In the quietest parts of his soul, Sirius wanted that, wanted the love that James had been blessed with in every possible way, from his parents and then from Lily and now from Harry._

_Sirius wanted that so much that it ached._

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

“You’re not James,” Sirius said, bewildered at the man wearing his best friend’s face but with the wrong eyes.

“No, he’s Harry,” came a deep, familiar voice from the floor. Gobsmacked, Sirius turned to see that the unconscious man was awake, “Hello, old friend.”

The voice was the same, but the man was not. If not for the scars across the cheek and nose being exactly right, Sirius might not have been able to place him. As it was, Sirius thought he might be going insane. The man with grey in his hair where it should have been sandy, with wrinkles where there should be smooth skin, and with a nose that drooped a bit more than it should have, was Remus. If the voice hadn’t confirmed it, the man’s scent would have.

“Remus,” Sirius choked, trying his best not to hyperventilate, “What the bloody hell is going on? You’re old!”

“I’m thirty seven, you prat,” Remus said, peeved and struggling to get to his feet with the help of the girl still kneeling next to him.

Sirius felt that he was taking all of this exceptionally well, thank you very much. “Which is older than twenty years old! Considering the last time I saw you, you were twenty, I stand by my prior statement!” he yelled, looking smug for all of a heartbeat before paling, “Oh no. No, no, no. We’re the same age! If you’re thirty seven, then…” he trailed off in horror.

Leaping off the bed, he did his best to examine himself, turning in circles as though he were in his dog form and chasing his tail. He suddenly remembered that he was in his own bedroom and rushed to the trunk against the wall and behind the two men still gripping their wands on the far side of the room. They stepped aside hastily, and Sirius wasted no time in digging through his belongings, tossing old cloaks and books over his shoulder.

“Really, Sirius, is this the most pressing issue right now?” Remus asked him, but he sounded off, breathless and disbelieving.

Finally pulling out the mirror he remembered keeping here, Sirius frantically searched his reflection.

Everything looked normal.

Slumping in relief, Sirius caught the man he’d thought was James peering over his shoulder into the mirror. The panic rose again.

“Wait,” Sirius spun around, pointing accusingly at the man but directing his question to Remus, “What do you mean that’s Harry? Harry’s a baby. That is not Harry.”

The man who was not Harry responded casually, “Pretty sure I’m Harry.”

Before Sirius could get any more riled up, a feat that he was not sure he would survive because of the whooshing already in his ears and his general light headedness, the beauty from before interrupted, “Clearly, explanations are in order. How about we do it over tea?”

Remus stepped forward and clasped a hand on Sirius shoulder, squeezing so hard that Sirius was sure it would bruise. “Tea sounds like an excellent idea, Hermione.”

Sirius opened his mouth to argue or yell or something, but a heated glare from the girl, from Hermione, had him closing his mouth quickly.

It was not until they were all seated civilly in the shockingly shabby kitchen of his childhood home that Sirius realized Hermione had done what no one, not his mother nor McGonagall nor Lily nor even James himself had ever managed.

She’d shut him up.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

_Sirius was quite sure that the scorch mark on the corner of Dumbledore’s ancient desk was his own doing. His own doing meaning that in the ever so distant past that was his fifth year, a Zonko’s firework, charmed to take the shape of a gyrating Professor Slughorn, had been confiscated from the Great Hall before it had the chance to go off. The bang that later emanated from the Headmaster’s office had been heard throughout half the castle and was the source of gossip for weeks because the culprit had never been identified._

_Seeing as how Sirius himself was the guilty party, he was doing his level best not to give that blasted scorch mark any more attention than the average former student visiting the Headmaster’s office would. The effort that he was expending to not look at the darkened wood was making it terribly hard to concentrate on whatever Dumbledore was droning on about._

_“So while I do regret sending you alone on this mission,” Dumbledore was saying as Sirius tuned back into the old wizard, “It is for the best.”_

_That was enough to give Sirius pause. “Alone? I usually run my missions with James.”_

_“I am well aware. However, I need a certain subtlety for this particular objective, among other attributes.”_

_Sirius raised an eyebrow. “You know, Albie, of the many things that I have been called in my life, subtle is not one of them.”_

_“Really?” Dumbledore grinned and leaned back in his chair, looking amused at the turn the conversation had taken, “Do you know what I find odd, Mr. Black? During all of your time at Hogwarts, you set a school record for punishments received.”_

_Sirius preened before Dumbledore continued, “And yet, from what I can gather, and I believe we can both agree I can be rather clever when I put my mind to it, you were only caught in roughly half of your plots, maybe less.”_

_It would have been a rookie mistake to glance at the ever present scorch mark at that moment. Not doing so was a Herculean feat in Sirius’ view, but he persevered. Dumbledore, the bastard, reached forward and stroked the black mark with a bony finger, anyway._

_Sirius didn’t blink._

_“Given your general infamy combined with your impressive popularity, to have gotten away with so much is a remarkable feat,” Dumbledore chuckles, “One that would require, obviously, quite a lot of subtlety.”_

_His father had taught him many lessons, most incidental to some cruelty or another, but the one that had served Sirius well over the years was that a wolf never lets the sheep see him sleep. Of course, most would think it counterproductive to view your ally as your prey and even more would liken Dumbledore to the wolf rather than the sheep, but none of those people had been born with the Black family ego. In his mind, Sirius had never been anything other than a wolf. It was a mindset that, ironically for his parents, was the validation Sirius needed for his many rebellions._

_So rather than show the nerves that were lingering inside him, Sirius mirrored Dumbledore’s relaxed slouch. “Not like you can give me detention now, I suppose. Still, a bloke’s gotta wonder why you want me for something subtle when you’ve got an order half full of aurors to command.” Sirius smiled and was sure to show all of his teeth._

_Dumbledore straightened slightly, and Sirius took it as a victory. “Ah, because I need more than subtlety. I need daring and, perhaps, the right name.”_

_“The Black name really only works in certain circles, circles that I doubt would be sympathetic to our cause,” Sirius replied, carefully maintaining his relaxed air despite his growing suspicion._

_“The Black name is one of the oldest of the pureblood families and the wealthiest. The former is what matters to the circles of which you speak, and the latter is what matters to those I wish for you to contact.”_

_Sirius could not deny he was intrigued._

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

“Seventeen years.”

Hermione poured him more tea as he attempted to process what had just been told to him.  
“Seventeen years. I’ve been gone for seventeen years.” Sirius repeated, narrowing his eyes at Remus, “Are you sure?”

“Am I sure?” Remus spluttered, “Bloody hell, were you always this thick?”

“I’ll have you know that I was fifth in our year, right behind your sorry arse.”

“Boys!” Hermione scolded before Remus could get in a retort. Remus gaped at the young witch, obviously incredulous at having been reprimanded by someone so many years his senior. Rolling her eyes at the werewolf, Hermione turned to Sirius, oblivious to the conciliatory pats Harry and Ron gave Remus. “I can’t imagine how much of a shock this all must be to the both of you, but let us try to keep calm. Snipping at each other like children won’t help anyone.”

“No one’s going to be confusing Moony here with a child, not with those wrinkles,” Sirius muttered to himself, but Hermione must have the hearing of a bat because she smacked the back of his head. The charming shade of pink she turned immediately after had Sirius promptly forgiving her, though he still rubbed at the sore spot on his scalp.

“Alright, alright. So I’ve been gone for…” he trailed off awkwardly.

“A long time,” Remus filled in quietly, “I’ve missed you, you know, even if you are a prat.”

With that, Sirius felt as thick as Remus had accused him of being. “Merlin, I hadn’t even thought… I’m sorry, Remus,” he got up and moved to embrace Remus, “To me, I just saw you. I didn’t realize that you’d…”

Remus hugged him back with all of his considerable strength. “That I’d been alone?”

Pulling back slightly, Sirius frowned. “Alone? What are James and Peter, chopped liver?”

Remus eyes filled with tears, and Sirius saw Harry shoot up from the table.

“What?” Sirius asked, trying to move back and face Harry, but Remus gripped him tighter. With a sob, Remus buckled, taking Sirius to his knees as well. “Remus? What is it?”

Sirius felt arms wrap around the both of them and noticed Harry kneeling with the two of them. Harry leaned in and whispered to Remus, “I’ll tell him, it’s alright, I can do it, shh…”

“Tell me what?” Sirius asked, worried.

“James is dead!” Remus sobbed, completely unresponsive to Harry’s gentle whispers, “Peter killed him and Lily, he killed them!”


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, I could not be having more fun writing Sirius Black. I hope you guys enjoy reading my version of him even half as much as I am enjoying writing him.

“What?”

Sirius didn’t understand. He hardly noticed when Remus ripped away from his hold, nearly knocking Harry to the floor if not for the boy’s quick reflexes. Remus scrambled back, still choking on sobs as he garbled out apologies. 

Sirius did not understand.

Harry barked some order to Hermione and scurried to the werewolf now rocking on his haunches, gripping his hair so tightly that little tuffs pulled out at the roots. “Remus!” Harry cried, trying to pry his hands off his head without doing more damage, “Hermione, the draught!”

The witch rushed over with a vial, quickly pouring it down Remus’ throat as Harry held his mouth open. Sirius saw it all happening from a few paces away, wondering at why he wasn’t helping but unable to move. He could feel his body, but his mind was detached, unable to control any part of him.

Hermione transfigured a kitchen stool into a plush armchair, helping Harry heave a now simpering Remus into it. Sirius felt a pressure on his shoulder, but was transfixed by a calming Remus.

“Come on, mate,” came a voice at Sirius’ shoulder, the shock of it allowing him to finally move his head, and Ron gently guided him back into a wooden chair. Ron disappeared from his sight for a moment, returning with an aged bottle. “Think you might want something stronger than tea,” he murmured, pausing to grab a glass.

“I,” Sirius forcefully shook his head, “I don’t understand.”

It was impossible to miss the pity in Ron’s eyes.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

_Despite Remus telling him the night before not to just drop in, Sirius was on Peter’s doorstep bright and early the next morning. He was a man of action, after all, not a cautious old hen like Remus. Given what James had said about Peter’s mum, Sirius was surprised at her absence when Peter finally let him inside the house, but he supposed that it was well before most of polite society would deign to visit._

_“How is dear old Mrs. Pettigrew faring?” Sirius asked as he was led into the house’s small kitchen._

_“Mum?” Peter answered, pausing, “Should I be concerned that Sirius Black is asking after my mother?”_

_Sirius held his arms up in a supplicating manner. “In my defense, she is quite fit.”_

_Peter threw a dish towel at him._

_“Seriously, mate, you alright?” Sirius asked after successfully dodging the rag, “Remus suggested kidnapping you tonight for your own good.”_

_“I could be amenable to going out tonight, but only if Remus uses the good silk ties. Handcuffs always chafe something awful,” Peter said, good naturedly._

_“Can’t tonight, actually. Got orders from Dumbledore.”_

_“Oh?” Peter asked, leaning against the counter across from Sirius._

_“All hush-hush, very double seven-oh.”_

_“Double oh-seven,” Peter corrected, “Mission involve a pretty bird in a white bikini, then?” Peter was gripping the edge of his counter tightly, though the rest of him was still nonchalant in its positioning. Sirius thought the stress of his sick mother must be getting to him and so threw him a bone. If Peter had to be cooped up with his ailing mother, better that he get to live vicariously through his friends._

_“I wish. Instead, I get to deal with a couple of disgruntled Unspeakables.”_

_“Really?” Peter relaxed his hands, “Do tell…”_

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

“Jesus, Hermione, how much did you give him?” Harry asked.

Sirius anxiously twisted to find Remus now peacefully asleep, head tipped back and drooling.

“He’s a werewolf with accelerated healing. A normal amount wouldn’t have been sufficient to calm him,” Hermione explained hotly, but then sheepishly added, “Though, I don’t know accelerated his healing is so I had to guess at the dosage.”

Harry looked alarmed, but Hermione shushed him quickly, “He’ll be fine. It’s only a simple calming draught.”

“Remus can handle it,” the words were out without any conscious thought from Sirius, “Back at school, we used to slip two or three vials of it into his pumpkin juice to get him to sleep before exams. He used to go a bit mental with his studying. James once…” Sirius trailed off, confused and cold. Ron, the good man that he was, passed a cup of amber liquid to him. A sniff told him it was one of his father’s better bottles of firewhiskey, but Sirius payed that no mind, tossing the entire glass back in one go and slamming the empty cup on the table. It’d been ages since the burn affected him, but he felt tears building just the same.

Pinching the bridge of his nose, Sirius saw Hermione lead Harry back to the table. He firmly shut his eyes, willing the moisture in them away. “What Remus said,” he began, “About James… and Lily? That’s not… That can’t be true.”

Another glass was put into his open hand, and Sirius opened his eyes to three sympathetic faces. Not able to bear the sight, he downed the new glass as quickly as the first.

“What happened?” he croaked, holding out the glass for a refill, a request to which Ron readily acquiesced.

“Remus knows more of what happened, but I can,” Harry paused, summoning a glass for himself and holding it out to Ron, “I can explain as best I can.”

“You shouldn’t have to do that,” Sirius argued, “I didn’t mean, Merlin, you don’t have to explain to me how your own parents…”

Harry smiled sadly, taking a cautious sip from his glass and wincing a bit. “I can, and I should. You’re my godfather, and I can do this for you.”

Sirius, struck suddenly by the memory of small arms wrapped around his neck and the sweet giggle that his infant godson always had for him, couldn’t keep the tears at bay anymore. “Yeah, I’m your godfather. I was gonna teach you so much, things your mum would murder me for showing you. Not that Prongs wouldn’t have done his best, but there are some things a father can’t teach his son. You should have had me there, not just as a story.”

Harry’s knuckles had gone white around his glass, and Hermione rested her head on Harry’s shoulder, clearly offering comfort to her distressed friend. Sirius was happy to see Harry had such close friendships, Hermione and Ron seeming like the solid sort. “I’m sure my dad would have taught me loads. I would have loved to learn anything from him, but I didn’t get that chance.”

Suddenly realizing his misapprehension, Sirius’ despair impossibly doubled. “When did they die?”

“October 31st, 1980.”

“You only had a year with them,” Sirius whispered, more to himself than anything, but he could hardly bear it. James, his best friend, his brother, was dead and had been for almost two decades. Lily, sweet and smart Lily, never got to see her son’s milestones or send her boy to Hogwarts. They’d been the best parents, the best people, and they’d never gotten to see Harry, their little boy, grow up.

And Harry, that precious baby that had been Sirius’ brightest spot in those bleak years of war, had never really known James or Lily. Sirius could imagine only one crueler fate, and it was unthinkable. For even though James and Lily were dead, a reality that Sirius could not yet process, at least Harry was here. If Sirius had woken up years in the far flung future to find that Harry was dead and buried with his parents, then…

Again, it was unthinkable.

“Was it,” Sirius took another pull of firewhiskey, “Was it Volde…”

“Don’t say it!” Ron interjected, surprising Sirius.

“People still don’t say his name? It’s been years since the war,” Sirius puzzled, horror then dawning on him, “Unless the war never ended.”

“It ended,” Harry chimed in, pushing his hair back from his forehead, “Got the scar to prove it.”

“The scar? What do you mean you have the bloody scar?” Sirius questioned, gaze glued to what was obviously a scar from dark magic on his godson’s head.

“What he means to say,” Hermione said, “Is that quite a lot happened, so perhaps we should start at the beginning. Right, Harry?”

Harry shrugged, taking another sip of firewhiskey and not flinching this time. Hermione rolled her eyes and motioned for him to continue.

“There was a prophecy when I was a baby. Said that the one with the power to defeat,” Harry stumbled, glancing at Ron, “You-Know-Who would be born as the seventh month dies to parents who had defied him three times. I fit the prophecy so we went into hiding. The cottage got put under a Fidelius charm, and Peter was the Secret Keeper.”

The whooshing sound was back.

“Remus said Peter killed them.”

Harry met his stare head on, every bit as brave as his father.

“That’s because he did.”

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

_Sirius left Peter’s in high spirits. Not that he doubted his own abilities, but it was comforting that one of the Marauders would at least know where he was if anything went awry. He’d hated not telling James and Remus the night before so telling Peter had helped his conscience a bit on that front as well._

_Tonight was not likely to be dangerous. It was only the first stage, and as Moody had been drilling into their heads, the first phase of any successful mission was reconnaissance._

_Dumbledore had explained that a few Unspeakables, frustrated with the strict rules and limitations the Department of Mysteries had put on their research, had begun bringing their work home with them. The Ministry had made to punish them when they discovered items missing, but had been unable to locate them. Where the Ministry had failed, Order members had prevailed and tracked them down to a small village where the Unspeakables were posing as ordinarily muggles. Apparently, they were not the only ones to have done so as known Death Eaters had been seen visiting in the village as well._

_Dumbledore believed that Voldemort desired whatever it was the Unspeakables were working on but did not believe that they were necessarily aligned with Voldemort. They had no history of prejudice nor any prior connections to anyone on the Dark Lord’s side. None of the Unspeakables were pureblood, one even being muggleborn herself. Dumbledore had painted a picture of obsessive academics wishing only to experiment and study freely and then pointed out how imperative it was for Sirius to present an alternative to using Voldemort’s resources. As the famously black sheep of the Black family, Sirius’ political stance was well known. His last name was even more well known for the wealth attached._

_Sirius was meant to observe only tonight, gather information so that he could decide how best to make contact._

_However, every one knows what they say about best-laid plans._

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

The first time Sirius laid eyes on Peter Pettigrew was when the Sorting Hat spent five minutes atop Peter’s head trying to place him. Perhaps it was due to the rush of adrenaline and relief at avoiding Slytherin or the validation of being placed in Gryffindor, but Sirius’ first instinct had been to laugh at poor Peter Pettigrew. He had, in fact, pointed and started to chuckle, turning to his new friend, James, and fully expecting him to join in the amusement. Instead, James frowned at him and pulled his finger down. Sirius, who had spent all of his years with only cruel people for company had not understood. With a furtive peek at the red headed muggleborn seated next to him, James told him, in no uncertain terms, that Peter was a Gryffindor and that you protected your own.

Sirius had pondered that concept as James waved Peter over and invited him to sit. Surveying the people around him, Sirius had seen only smiles, no one looking down their noses or displaying any dismissive behaviors, only happy and excited kids. James had hidden a Hiccough Sweet in the redheads’, Lily, dessert, and the whole table had roared with laughter when she erupted in hiccoughs a few minutes later. Grinning, Sirius had decided then that James was right. These people were his own. He introduced himself to Peter who was shyly watching James’ antics with awe in his expression. Peter was surprised at being addressed but became immediately excited at the idea of a Black talking with him. Sirius remembered thinking that his days of being surrounded by terrible people were over.

As Harry explained Peter defecting to Voldemort and selling out the Potters to the Dark Lord, Sirius kept flashing back to that eleven year old Peter, sitting alone on the stool, completely unaware of James Potter defending him.

“What happened to him?” Sirius asked, monotone as he stared at a crack in the table, a ragged split where the wood was too parched to stay together.

Harry took his biggest draw of firewhiskey yet and answered, “That bit is probably best left explained by Remus. I was a baby, and Remus has never really told me. I can guess, but I don’t think he wants me to know exactly. I only know he ended up in Azkaban. At least, he was there until our third year, but that’s a whole different story.”

Sirius wanted to press but found what little restraint he held within him to resist. He didn’t want this to be harder for Harry than it had to be as Harry was only seventeen.

A small, selfish voice in his mind whispered that Sirius himself was only twenty, but he shut that train of thought down, viciously. Sirius was still his godfather, still loved Harry completely. Harry would still come before Sirius, always.

“So Peter betrayed James and Lily. You-Know-Who found the Cottage?”

“Yeah,” Harry finished his glass, “He found it. He killed my parents, but my mum… She willingly sacrificed herself for me. Wouldn’t stand aside. That’s old magic, magic that Voldemort didn’t understand.”

“Love,” Sirius said, anguished at the thought of Lily Potter standing proud between her son and certain death. God, he could picture it perfectly, furious and righteous Lily, refusing to move.

Sirius wished he couldn’t imagine it in such excruciating detail.

“Love,” Harry agreed, “He killed my mother, but when he sent a killing curse at me, it rebounded. Mum’s love, it protected me. He couldn’t touch me. His own curse destroyed his body.”

His hand was trembling too hard to keep ahold of the glass. Setting it down, he instead reached out to Harry, pushing back his hair again to see the lightning bolt carved into his godson’s skin. Sirius didn’t miss how Harry shied away from his touch at first, relaxing after a moment.

“No one’s ever survived a killing curse before,” Sirius said, running his fingers through Harry’s hair like he used to when Harry still fit in the crook of his arm, “I always told James that you’d be brilliant.”

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

_Contrary to popular belief or whatever rot Remus might say, Sirius was not truly impulsive. He was honestly too cunning for that and usually put a great deal of thought into his actions. His thought process happened to be much faster than most so his quick actions or reactions often gave the illusion of spontaneity. In reality, he’d already thought through the possible consequences and made a judgment call._

_As he squeezed himself through the open window of the shack the Unspeakables were using as a hide out, Sirius thought up possible justifications he could use to Remus later to prove that this was not impulsiveness. They were as follows:_

_One, he’d been watching the house for four hours, and the three missing Unspeakables had left two hours prior._

_Two, information on what it was these wankers were working on was certainly of interest to the Order considering even Dumbledore’s connections at the Ministry hadn’t been able to discover it._

_Three, Dumbledore had told him to do reconnaissance. It was easier observe from inside the shack than the outside._

_Four, it was bloody cold outside and not even Padfoot’s fur was doing a damn thing to keep him warm._

_Satisfied with his arguments, Sirius landed lightly on the shaggy carpet, stilling and listening hard to ensure that he was alone. After a full minute of nothing but silence, he crept through what was clearly being used as a bedroom, three cots crowded into the small space. Ducking into the hallway, he noticed a soft glow coming from a closed door opposite him. He slipped inside, wincing at the low groan from the door’s hinges, and went to the jars lined up on tables along the far wall that were illuminating the dark. Closer inspection showed they were full of golden sand, each grain emitting its own light. Sirius could feel the magic reverberating off the sand, but it was not any magic he’d felt before. Shifting to bend further, his foot stepped on something fragile, collapsing under his weight to the sound of tinkling glass. Surprised, Sirius lifted his foot to see a small, broken hourglass, surrounded by rings of gold. In fact, the floor was littered with them. A sinking feeling took up space in Sirius’ gut as he recognized what he had previously only read about._

_They were incredibly rare, a new innovation of great potential. The Ministry had only recently allowed the announcement of their existence and likely only did so to increase interests in donations to the Department of Mysteries. The announcement was why Sirius could recognize them, as all Blacks had received the embossed and glittering letter with the Ministry’s seal. At the time, Sirius had been intrigued at the concept, the academic in him curious as to how they had managed it._

_Now, faced with a room full of Time Turners in a house of renegades being courted by Voldemort, he was terrified by the implications._

_As he stewed over his discovery, the groan of the door startled him into diving for cover, wand trained on the figure in the doorway. His terror increased tenfold as the figure stepped into the low-light cast from the sand._

_“Hello, cousin,” cooed Bellatrix Lestrange, “You don’t know how long I’ve waited for this. I begged Him to allow me the honor.”_

_“What honor was that, Bella?” Sirius asked, desperately looking for an escape route but stupidly realizing that the only point of egress was the door in which Bellatrix stood._

_With a cackle, Bellatrix squared her shoulders._

_“The honor of killing you, of course!”_

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

The library had been one of the few rooms in this house that didn’t overwhelm Sirius with unpleasant memories. He’d spent a lot of time here as a child because he would be left alone by his parents if he was reading some ancient tome from the Black collection. Dear old Mother and Father approved of the Black heir furthering his knowledge and since Sirius had few hobbies of which his parents approved, they allowed him mostly free reign so long as he was within these walls. Judging by the thick cobwebs covering most of the books on the shelves, it would seem that the library had not seen much use since he left these hallowed halls.

Harry had started waning after describing his mother’s sacrifice, and Sirius, though desperate with the need to know what had happened in his years long absence, had insisted they all go to bed. Hermione had shot him a grateful look as she led Harry and Ron upstairs, leaving Sirius with a snoring Remus and completely inappropriate thoughts of where the little witch would be laying her head that night.

Recognizing a forced distraction for what it was, Sirius had mulled over the pretty girl while he nursed his final glass of Ogden’s. She seemed close with Harry, and he imagined she must be close with Ron as well, but he hadn’t sensed anything more than deep friendship between the two. He’d smelled a faint nervousness coming off of Ron, but he couldn’t attribute that to Hermione’s presence. It had been an awful night, and Ron very well may have been reacting to the general chaotic atmosphere.

Not everyone was so good at forcing emotions under years of walls and insecurities, Sirius thought ruefully. 

Remus’ snoring had forced him from the kitchen, and the unwelcome setting of Number 12 Grimmauld Place forced itself to the front of Sirius thoughts. He’d never expected to see this place again, not after narrowly escaping, dripping blood and barely mobile, to the Potter’s when he was sixteen. No one had mentioned anything yet, but for Harry and the others to be here meant that the rest of his wretched family was dead. Only the rightful owners of the house could get through the wards, so his parents were clearly gone, Regulus had to be as well for Sirius’ will naming Harry as heir to come into effect. Sirius had been surprised at the small pang of sadness he felt when he thought of his little brother’s death, but the last dregs of alcohol washed it away quick enough. He’d made his way to the library, the only other room palatable to him being his bedroom, and he was not yet ready to go to bed to be left with nothing but his thoughts.

Though most shelves were still bearing signs of disuse, one area of shelves were cleaner. There were still cobwebs and dust, but they had been cleared enough so that the spines of all the books could be easily read. Sirius was inspecting the tracks made in the dust from someone obviously taking and replacing books when the door creaked. Hermione stepped into the room, not noticing that it was already occupied until he cleared his throat.

Sirius hadn’t meant to scare her, and certainly hadn’t expected her to whip out her wand, but she had him frozen in less than two seconds without ever having uttered a word.

“Oh!” Hermione squeaked, waving her wand and quickly saying the counter-curse, “I’m sorry! I thought everyone was asleep!”

“Do you always curse first, ask questions later?” Sirius griped half-heartedly, mostly impressed with her reflexes.

“Constant vigilance,” she replied, shrugging and offering him a smile in apology.

Taking a seat in front of the unlit fire, Sirius laughed. “Moody’s still forcing that down everyone’s throats then? Should have known the end of a war wouldn’t make him loosen up.”

Hermione frowned, moving to sit with him. “You knew Professor Moody?”

Sirius’ jaw dropped. “Who let Alastor teach children? Hell, who let Alastor near children?”

“Don’t speak ill of the dead!” Hermione angrily retorted. Sirius’ face paled, and Hermione sighed, “And you don’t know about that. I’m sorry, we only lost him a few weeks ago. It wasn’t our first loss, but… it’s all the more real now, I suppose.”

“First loss? Why are you lot having any losses?” Sirius asked, “The Dark Lord of Bullshit was dead. The war was over.”

Hermione bit her lip, and at any other time, Sirius would have paid much more attention to that small act. As it was, he was starting to wishing he’d brought the bottle with him from the kitchen.

“Perhaps it would be best if I explained everything. I know Harry wanted to do it, but honestly, that’s because Harry takes the weight of the world on his shoulders. I know he’s the Chosen One, but he’s still just one man,” Hermione grumbled, “But I’m getting away from myself. Harry will have to accept my help whether he likes it or not. The best place to begin is the obvious, I guess. This will not be pleasant so please brace yourself.”

Sirius tilted his head and put on his best crooked smile, the one that Lily complained about constantly whenever he used it on her friends. He was pleased to find that Hermione blushed easily, and something about teasing her helped take his mind off of those things he’d rather not dwell on at the moment. “I think I can handle whatever your gorgeous little mouth can throw at me, love,” Sirius threw in a lascivious wink for good measure. 

Her eyes narrowed adorably to slits at the pet name, and she flushed even brighter. 

“Is that so?” she challenged, “Then I’ll be blunt: Peter kidnapped Harry when he was fourteen and used Harry’s blood to bring You-Know-Who back to his fully powered self.”

For the second time in his life, both by the same witch, Sirius was stunned into silence.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

_He’d heard stories, of course, both at school and after in the Order, of how dangerous Bella was with a wand. It hadn’t surprised him, as she’d always been a cruel woman with sadistic tastes, but he hadn’t realized what those stories had truly been saying until now._

_Bella was beyond gifted and horrifyingly powerful._

_At first, it was all he could do to avoid her curses, using any and everything to block and evade. Once he’d gotten his wits about him, he’d been able to duel her properly, but she was relentless. A spell hadn’t completely left her wand before she was uttering the next one, and every incantation was meant to maim or worse._

_For how often he’d wished his family ill will, Sirius had always wondered if he had it within him to hurt them himself. He had plenty of rage within him and little to no love for the people who had spent the years he’d been most vulnerable, the years he meant to be growing and learning and being nurtured, torturing him instead, but Sirius had still never known what he would do if given an actual opportunity to pay any of his family back in kind for his treatment. Now, faced with the very real possibility of his own blood murdering him with delight in her heart, Sirius realized he would and could kill his cousin._

_He was relieved to find that it wasn’t because it would save himself, though, but more because of the horrors she would undoubtedly commit if she left this house alive and for the abominable acts she had absolutely already committed in the name of her lunatic leader._

_Bellatrix may have been rightfully deserving of her dangerous reputation, but Sirius was every bit as powerful as she was. Their fight was a fearsome thing to behold, if anyone other than themselves had been present. As it was, the shack had been ripped apart from the inside out, small fires had erupted all around and smoke wrapped around them as a heavy cloak. Bella was laughing riotously, even as Sirius’ severing charm cut her wand arm to the bone. She sent back a Bombarda that Sirius dove the ground to avoid._

_Unfortunately, in the heat of duel, Sirius had forgotten that he’d been protecting the jars of the magical sand that he had to assume came from the Time Turners, knowing that tampering with the substance could only lead to disaster. It had put him at a disadvantage earlier in the fight, but as things grew more vicious, the sand had slipped further out of his mind. As the Bombarda magically exploded the table, jars, and sand within them, a deep boom blasted from the explosion, followed by a blinding maelstrom of light pulsing out. In his peripheral vision, he could see Bellatrix being blown out of the wreckage of the shack by the concussive force. He didn’t have time to wonder over why he was not also being thrown from the explosion because he was suddenly awash in a cascade of the golden sand._

_They were pinpricks of fire that dissipated on impact with him, melting into his skin and clothes. So all-consuming was the pain that all Sirius could do was scream, immobilized under the onslaught. The worst of it all was that he had felt something like this before, the memory rushing from the recesses where he had forced it, to add a terrible psychological depth to his current hell. As the sand continued its barrage, Sirius was forced to relive being young and writhing under the careful wand of his mother, screaming and crying out for help while knowing no one would come for him._

_As he slipped from consciousness, his last thoughts were filled with the recollection of being thrown onto his bed at Number 12 Grimmauld Place, weak and shaking with his mother’s yells of ‘Crucio’ ringing in his ears._

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

“And that’s all of it.” Hermione stretched her tired muscles, letting out a yawn as her back arched. “In a general sense, but it would hardly help to drown you in all the details in one go.”

Sirius stared at her.

Hermione blinked owlishly back.

“Did you really date a World Cup Champion?”

It was not what he wanted to ask, but Sirius didn’t know what to focus on first. The trivial seemed safest.

Glancing at her watch, Hermione huffed incredulously, “I’ve just spent the last several hours telling you that the Dark Lord whom you spent your adult years fighting has risen from the grave, that he has actively targeted your godson, and the many trials and tribulations said godson has faced, and the thing you choose to comment on was my minor and insignificant dating history?”

“In my defense, I think I’ve been in shock for most of those hours,” Sirius cleared his throat and curled further into the couch, “It’s easier to focus on the, how did you put it, minor and insignificant?” Normally, he’d never be so forthcoming, but he was rubbed raw. Everything was bright, burning, crushing, and far, far away so he was doing his damndest to keep above it.

“Surprisingly logical, Sirius Black,” Hermione hummed, lids fluttering drowsily.

“I think you’ll find that I am a great many things, my dear Hermione. One of the things I am not, however, is an idiot.”

Perplexed, Hermione shook off her lethargy to perk up. “I hadn’t made up my mind yet, but I was leaning towards you having some intelligence. Remus wouldn’t hold a moron in such high esteem.”

Ignoring her, Sirius continued on as though she hadn’t interrupted, “As a non-idiot person, I can in fact read between the lines. Dumbledore left something specific to you, Harry, and Ron. The three of you are holed up here, alone for weeks, rather than with your families or at Hogwarts. That beaded bag hasn’t left your wrist once this whole night, and it bounces in a most peculiar way for something so small. Finally, the only books in this library that have been disturbed recently are the ones related to death, blood magic, and some of the worst of the Dark Arts.”

Hermione was fully awake now, face completely devoid of emotion.

“I worked under Dumbledore in the Order so I’m familiar enough with how he operates. He’s the type to give three seventh years a mission. Giving the supposed Chosen One the burden of saving the bloody world is even more up his alley. Going to go ahead and assume that you didn’t tell me what this sacred mission is because only you three know. Albus was all about compartmentalizing his secrets.”

Hermione was eying the door way now, but Sirius had always been tenacious.

“So let’s have it then. What is it that Dumbledore has you three doing?” The witch swallowed heavily, biting at her lip again. 

Sirius smiled, knowing he had her.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

The next morning, Harry was awoken by Sirius plopping unceremoniously onto his small bed. The yelp Harry let out roused Ron one bed over, the ginger hurling himself out of bed only to trip over the blankets wrapped around his legs.

Sirius eyed the floored Ron apathetically and turned to face Harry.

“So,” Sirius began, lifting a brow at his bedraggled godson, “Horcruxes, huh?”

**Author's Note:**

> Please let me know what you think! I'm new to writing in the Harry Potter fandom and your thoughts would be so appreciated :)
> 
> Also, I'm iamkatebishop on Tumblr if you want to come and say hi!


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